THE
COMMITTEE-MANS
Last Will and, Testament:
With the Lamentation of his miserable and sad condition, being
at the point of death.
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1.
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O Mee, O mee, our Parliament,
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Which I hop'd aye would last,
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Must now dissolve, the Army's bent,
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They shall repentance tast.
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2.
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And I that thriv'd very well,
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Must now myselfe go hang,
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I am esteem'd an Infidell,
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Which makes my heart-strings twang.
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3.
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Those good men that have sate seven yeares,
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For to reforme their Nation
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The vulgar now them scoffes and jeers,
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In an opprobrious fashion.
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4.
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O they will never have more plate
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Brought into Goldsmiths Hall,
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And I'm afeard preposterous Fate
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Hath nul'd their Votings all.
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5.
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There's no man now cares what we say,
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Nor will obedience give,
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Our Orders now none will obey,
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But as they list will live.
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6.
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O that it ere should come to passe,
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The King should hope to be
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A Monarch, as of late he was,
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And we our ruine see!
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7.
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No man will now stirre at our call,
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But each man fully sees,
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That they have been deceived all,
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And now curse their Trustees.
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8.
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I shall no more get in one day
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Five Marks, due for my sitting,
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For why, the sturdy Commons say,
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We with their coyne are flitting.
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9.
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Maynard is gone, and Hollis too,
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But we are left behind,
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And Lewis now is gone to view,
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Cambro-Britannias kind.
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10.
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And Walter Long is run away,
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And Nicolls that Esquire,
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Colonel Harley durst not stay,
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But left us in the fire.
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11.
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O the brave dayes that I have seene,
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Which splits my heart in twaine!
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Now I can say such dayes have beene,
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Nere shall be seen againe.
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12.
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When I could sequestrations make,
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For my own profit best,
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And from men what I listed take,
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They'd thank me for the rest.
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13.
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But now all's gone, all's lost, and we
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A true account must give;
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Which if it be followed rigorously,
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Who can gain a reprieve?
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14.
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O Derrick, I do thee implore,
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To cast me gently off;
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That so I do not stink, before
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Thou dost my breeches doff.
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15.
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And now I do my farewell take
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Of King and Parliament;
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Yet 'fore I goe, my Will will make,
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Pray heare my Testament.
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I That have liv'd the longest that I can,
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And now must die, a false Committee-man,
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Do give my soule to him that gave it me,
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But would the Devill should a sharer be:
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Or els, because the devill was at my call,
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I give him this my body, soule and all,
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In hope, mov'd by my love, he may prefer
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Me when in hell, to be his Treasurer;
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For that in casting up accounts, I'm skild,
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And have my bags with filched money fild.
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My cheating quirks I to Promoters give,
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And such as by the Peoples crimes do live:
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My base dissembling, vile hypocrisie
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I give the Elders of the Presbyterie.
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My trecherie, and falsnesse to my King,
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I give to the Scotch Nations mannaging;
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That they, well stockt, may 'gainst another day,
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Not faile succeeding Princes to betray.
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All I have bad I have bequeath'd, and more
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Alas I have not: I spent all before.
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